I have gone on and on about The Cat in successive posts because I’ve warmed to the little blighter. He is a fearless soul that’s been through a lot in his few weeks in this life. But we have been lax in that we haven’t given him a name, and Mark’s suggestion that we call him ‘The Master’ like in Doctor Who made me think.

Watson is called what he is called because Mark’s mother, when she took him home from the shelter as a puppy, had a little flutter for Benedict Cumberbatch and Sherlock. Since Watson has a moustache, unlike Watson in the television series, the name seemed to be a natural.

Lady has a more murky naming origin, and Mark can’t decide if she was named so because of Disney or because of her haughty demeanour. The name really fits her, and her behaviour. Like Watson certainly is no observant genius in the shade of greatness, on the contrary, The Cat hasn’t really earned his name yet.

So, we’re having a hard time deciding what it is going to be, and we’ve tossed suggestions between us, but we can’t come up with something that isn’t just silly or inappropriate or just plain wrong for this cat. So far, ‘The Master’ seems to be the most appropriate, but it still isn’t perfectly right. On the other hand, ‘Dalek’ wouldn’t be too amiss either, if we’re going to go for a Whovian name theme.

This is the only thing that has preoccupied us today as I finished the book I started yesterday, started up and got bored with Bioshock (again), and then loaded up trusty Skyrim to waste a few lazy hours in that game. To my left there’s a pile that’s calling to me, trying to make me feel guilty, but I have no problems resisting with a resounding ‘No’. This weekend is ours, and only ours. It does not belong to the school work.